Arbitan pointed for the group to join Sicarius.
Amaranthe ended up in front of the fireplace, its burning logs warming her back. Hollowcrest stared out the window doing nothing useful. She felt a stirring of disgust; he could at least try to barter for the lives of his men.
And what am I doing that’s so helpful?
She eyed a set of fireplace tools next to the hearth. Maybe she could still provide the distraction that would lower Arbitan’s defenses. Her hand drifted toward the poker.
“Well, my dear.” Arbitan’s gaze pinned her and she froze. “The counterfeit money would have been fun to play with, but you’re too troublesome to keep around.” His eyes flickered toward Basilard and back to her. “You’d probably subvert the torturer I sent to interrogate you.”
Amaranthe swallowed. She recognized a death sentence by now. Time to take a chance.
She grabbed the poker and leapt for the wizard.
And was flattened to the floor. The rug mashed her cheek. It felt as if the ceiling had fallen on her, compressing her torso, her head, and every limb. She could scarcely breathe.
The poker pulled free from her hand and returned to its place amongst the tool set.
Out of the bottom of her eye, she saw her comrades similarly flattened. All except Sicarius. He was on one knee, knuckles pressed against the floor.
Fight it! Amaranthe wished she could. She exerted every muscle, trying to press her chest up from the floor. She couldn’t budge.
Sicarius managed to rise from his knees, though his back bowed from the effort. Jaw clenched, face reddened, he glared at Arbitan and inched higher.
She needed to help him. Somehow.
Amaranthe stopped struggling. It was getting her nowhere, and if Sicarius were rising on muscle strength alone, Maldynado, with his powerful bulk, should have been able to force himself up as well. This was a mental battle, she realized, remembering Sicarius’s history lesson on the Hunters. Too bad she had no such training to call upon. Suspecting the effort in vain, she tried to will herself up.
Sicarius staggered forward a step. Amaranthe sensed the wave of force lessening around her as Arbitan shifted more of his focus toward Sicarius. She wished she could see the wizard’s face. Was he tiring? At least sweating a bit?
She closed her eyes and imagined herself swimming in the lake during the summer. She slipped under the surface and stroked to the depths, cutting through the water’s resistance with ease. Her head inched off the carpet. Her shoulders and neck trembled under the weight. In her mind, she skimmed along the lake bottom, algae-slick pebbles passing beneath her. Then she angled for the surface, and the buoyant water carried her toward the sunlight. She wedged one elbow under her chest to prop her torso up, and then, with a gargantuan effort, lunged to the side and grabbed a burning brand from the fireplace.
Embers seared her flesh. The pain gave her a jolt of energy, and she used it to hurl the log.
It sailed at Arbitan’s head. He threw his arm up reflexively, and in that instant his magic dissipated.
Amaranthe surged to her feet in time to see Sicarius ram a dagger into Arbitan’s chest. It glided between the ribs and pierced vital organs. Shock widened Arbitan’s eyes and stole the arrogant smile from his face. He crumpled to the ground, fingers clutching uselessly at the dagger hilt.
Amaranthe slumped against the fireplace mantel. Sicarius looked at her.
“Good to see you,” she said.
His mask had returned, but he inclined his head. “I believe he is an undercover Nurian wizard, sent by their government to create chaos and plant a compliant heir on the throne.”
“Amaranthe figured that out in the dungeon.” Maldynado sent a smug look at Books.
“Really.” Sicarius regarded Amaranthe with…respect?
She bit her lip to hide her smile.
“Excellent work, Sicarius,” Hollowcrest crooned. “As expected. You were always invaluable. Good to have you back. Arbitan was the most dangerous, but I’ll need someone to remove the remnants of Forge. That Larocka woman is a pest as well.”
Amaranthe frowned at the old man. Did he think Sicarius had killed Arbitan for him?
“Sicarius, you can’t help Hollowcrest,” Books said. “He’s the one who had my son killed. Amaranthe says-”
“Amaranthe says?” Hollowcrest snorted. “Sicarius doesn’t take orders from street trollops. He’s always worked for the throne-” Hollowcrest nodded at Sicarius, “-and he will again.”
“Perhaps so,” Sicarius said, inscrutable.
His agreement gave Amaranthe a horrified start, until she realized “the throne” meant Sespian these days.
“The first thing I’ll need you to do is eliminate these witnesses,” Hollowcrest said. “We don’t want the papers sensationalizing this debacle.” He prodded Arbitan, who still twitched on the floor.
Despite the mortal wound, Arbitan was slow dying. His mouth kept opening and closing, as if he was trying to utter one last snide comment. Amaranthe hoped he could not use his power to somehow heal himself. Surely, all that pain provided the ultimate distraction.
Nobody else paid Arbitan any heed. Books watched the two men, teeth clamped on his lower lip. Maldynado and Akstyr, too, seemed worried that Sicarius would take up with Hollowcrest. Their concern, etched so clearly on their faces, made Amaranthe doubt her own certainty.
Am I wrong?
Sicarius crossed the room and stopped an arm’s-length away from Hollowcrest. His face offered no hint of malice. He reached for no weapons.
“Excellent. Now…” Hollowcrest waved at Amaranthe and the others. “Kill this riffraff.”
“I knew it,” Maldynado muttered.
Akstyr backed toward the door. Books’s shoulders slumped, as if the battle was already lost.
“You’re drugging Sespian,” Sicarius said, eyes locked on Hollowcrest.
Hollowcrest waved a placating hand. “Only to make him compliant to the empire’s needs. Besides, it shouldn’t matter to you. You always worked through me more than Emperor Raumesys. Nothing’s changed.”
“Sicarius,” Amaranthe said, “ask him the name of the drug. Is it something that causes long-term consequences?”
He did not look at her. His stony gaze remained fixed on Hollowcrest, who frowned as he watched Sicarius. For the first time, uncertainty took the edge off his haughty expression. Hollowcrest tried to take a step back but bumped into the windowsill.
“What drug are you using on him?” Sicarius stepped forward. He stood nose-to-nose with Hollowcrest. “Zawyat?”
“You’re not going to take orders from her, are you?” Hollowcrest squeaked.
Sicarius glanced briefly her direction. “They’re more like suggestions.”
Amaranthe might have smiled, remembering the time she had explained it the same way, but the tension between the two men stole her mirth.
“ What drug?” Sicarius asked.
“Iklya Bark,” Hollowcrest whispered, his back pressed against the window.
“Why-why would you use something so potent?” Sicarius asked, his mask slipping briefly, his dark eyes stunned. “That would kill him eventually.”
Amaranthe felt sick. How long had Sespian been on the drug? Had years already been stolen from his life?
“I tried Zawyat, but the boy resisted it,” Hollowcrest said. “His lifespan doesn’t matter. Sespian isn’t suited to rule a nation. He’ll live long enough to produce an heir.”
“He’ll live longer than you.”
True to his nature, Sicarius made the kill swiftly, but he seemed to take more satisfaction in it than usual. The snap of Hollowcrest’s breaking neck echoed through the room, lingering along with the savage fury in Sicarius’s eyes. Amaranthe shivered. She was relieved when a twitch from the still-dying wizard distracted her.